The Dragon of Ferelden
by Andrew James Drake
Summary: A strange encounter within an unidentified Ruin transports The Dragonborn and their party to a strange new world. A world where Magic is even more feared than it was in Skyrim, and where Elves are crushed underfoot by Man. But, as always, this world is staring down a threat. An eerily familiar corruption is sweeping forth, and the party is set stand directly in its path.
1. Three Faces

I held up my hand, signaling my party to stop, as we crossed into the largest room of the ruin yet.

It was an enormous room. The ceiling was a gentle dome, about thirty feet high at its peak. The room itself had eleven walls, each of the same size. There were about ten feet across, each, and all but two had artwork in what looked like enamel. Those two were the wall that contained the door we'd just entered through, and the one opposing that door which contained a single mirror.

The door and mirror had similar shapes to them. They were both about seven feet wide at the base, rising up to about nine feet before tapering off to a point. They were the same, otherwise. Right down to the stonework of their borders.

I cast my gaze around the room, looking for traps, or for hidden doorways that might have a number of Undead behind them waiting to jump out. We'd run into that last one more than once in the ruin, already.

"Looks clear," I said cautiously… and then added, "but I think I'll look a bit deeper before we go in."

I breathed in deeply, allowing the words to form in my mind almost by instinct. They were three words in a language that was dead for thousands of years, three words who echo with power even in the mouths of the untrained. Together, they comprised a useful Shout.

" _ **Laas Yah Niir**_ ," I whispered, putting more of _myself_ into the Words than I would if carrying out a conversation. By doing so, I gave them substance beyond the wind they were made of.

There was a cracking noise, like thunder, within the words as I spoke them in spite of my whispering. As the sounds passed out of my mouth, my vision shifted and the Aura Whisper took effect. Colors grew dull, except around the living. I could see Life around those who live, and those who were in the grip of False Life… and even in those things that Mimic Life.

I scanned the room, searching for anything that might be threatening. I didn't see anything with the Aura Whisper, which meant that there weren't any Undead, Living, or Constructs waiting to attack us. That didn't rule out traps… but I couldn't pick out any obvious mechanisms from a distance.

"Okay," I said, "the room's clear of enemies. Watch out for traps."

"I'll try," the woman to my right said.

"Got it," the woman on my left said.

Then we moved into the room. I kept one eye on the floor, looking for pressure plates. I didn't find any… although it would have been hard to do so. The floor was a mosaic, or maybe more enameling. The pattern was incredibly complicated… but I got the feeling that there was some order to the design that I couldn't quite see. As for my other eye-

The woman on my right asked, "Who do you think they are?"

My other eye was looking at the murals on the walls. They were… incredible. Titanic in their size, and each was made of a different… being. They reminded me a bit of the stained glass windows in the Cathedrals of Cyrodiil. They all looked like Bosmer, in their general shape, but each had something… strange added on.

"There are nine of them," I said, "so I'm guessing Gods. Maybe this was a Temple… but I don't recognize the Pantheon. I think the woman with the dragon coiled around her is probably a different version of Akatosh, though. As for the rest… I'd need more information to link them to anything we know today."

"This place makes me nervous," the other woman said, "it's like… something's watching us. But I can't see it."

I turned my head to the side to talk to her, catching a glimpse of her armor out of the corner of my eye. It was heavy armor, Skyforge-Steel Plate at least twice as thick as it normally was, and with Dragon icons carved into its surface. I had spent the better part of a week making that armor, even with Eorlund to help.

"I feel it too, Nerevra…" I paused for a moment, thinking, and then turning to the other woman and saying, "Hey, Serana. How do the Barriers look here?"

Serana paused for a moment, and closed her eyes for a moment. I saw a slightly purple twisting of the light around her, as she prodded the Limenal Barriers with a basic Conjuration Spell, and then she opened them and said, "The Barriers are weak here. Like Mother's lab."

"You think there's a Portal here?" I asked.

"Probably," she said, "can't think of anything else that would do this to the barriers and not have Lesser Daedra slipping through the cracks."

I nodded, and then continued moving forward. Things were quiet until we reached the center-point of the room. Then… things got exciting as the Mirror, or rather the Portal, turned on.

The Mirror gave off a wave of light that hit me with an almost physical force. My eyes were forced closed by the brilliance, but I could still feel the light. Raw Magicka washed over me like a tidal wave, and I felt like the flood was trying to sweep me away. There wasn't any mass to it… but it had a lot of force to it.

"You okay Serana?" I asked, "That felt like sunlight."

Serana replied, "Yeah… I'm blind, but otherwise okay. Doesn't feel like sunlight."

"Your Mage is right," a Voice said, "Thief."

The voice surprised me, and my right hand flew to the Dragonbone Greatsword on my back. I drew it free of its sheath as the light receded enough for me to open my eyes.

I saw three men standing in front of the mirror, like they had just stepped out of it. Considering that it was probably a portal, they had probably done exactly that.

"Who are you," I asked, holding the great-sword against my armor.

The man in the center answered. He looked to be a Breton, like me. But he was old, with long graying hair and a grayer beard. He was wearing loose clothing, most noticeable a long coat with a high collar that covered most of his throat.

He said, "Fahdon wo lost kriinaan hi grinstiid." I knew it as the Dragon Language the moment the words were shaped, and the translation echoed in my Souls. _A Friend who has written you often_.

I blinked, once. Knowing any of the Dragon Language was remarkable… knowing enough to form a sentence was more so. I replied, "Ruz wo los vorey?" _Who are the others?_

The man on the left stepped forward. He was a… well he was a Nord's Nord. He had a massive battleaxe slung over his shoulder, and he looked strong enough to wield it with one hand. His helmet obscured his face… but a long and braided beard emerged. His armor looked to be some sort of fusion between Ancient Nordic designs… and the armor of the Blades.

"En krigare." the massive Nord said. I didn't recognize the language.

The man on the right stepped forward next. He was the one who had spoken, neither of the others sounded like him or spoke the Emperor's Tongue. He looked to be an Imperial man, with his hood up where I couldn't get a look at his hair. I could see his eyes, or rather the blindfold he wore over them both. Beyond that, he was dressed like a Battlemage. A robe flowed out from under his breastplate, and he wore it open in the front to expose the plates of armor he wore beneath.

"The one who Watches," the third man said.

The man who spoke the Dragon Language turned to the Watcher and asked, "Fos los nust, Lahzey?" _What are they, Mage?_

"I cannot speak as to the Warrior and Thief," he said, "they have not been set in their roles. But I know the woman is the Mage."

"Kan de överleva vad som kommer?" the Nordy Nord... asked?

"They will have to be," the Watcher said as he extended an arm to his side. A weapon dropped into it, a two-handed sword that appeared to be made from Mithril. He was definately from Cyrodill, then. Mithiril Armor and Weapons only exist in the Imperial Province.

Nerevra drew her weapon at that, and Dawnbreaker let out an almost physical wave of light as it was unsheathed. Serana drew her weapon, a Dragonbone Sword I'd forged for her, and gathered a Destruction spell in her off hand. I, of course, already had the massive Dragonbone Greatsword in my hands, ready for a fight.

"Vi känner dem redan." Nordy-Nord Said, in what sounded like a calm tone, "De kommer inte frivilligt."

The one who spoke the Dragon Tongue replied, "Nust fen bo fod dah." _They will come when pushed._

"Very well," the Watcher said, holding the greatsword in a ready stance, "let us push them."

I moved first, the words coming to mind by instinct. I brought them forth into the world, shouting them as a battle-cry: " **WULD NAH KEST**!"

The Whirlwind Sprint should have sent me flying forward to meet the man in the center, the one that spoke the Dragon Tongue. I should have been able to push him forward, into the mirror, and maybe drive my sword through him before the battle could begin. But I couldn't... because he responded with a Shout of his own.

" **NID NAHLOT VUTH**!" he Shouted... and my Shout was drowned out by his. I didn't Understand the words, but I knew what they meant. _No Silence Stop._ I didn't know the Shout's name, but I could undestand what it did... it Silenced my Voice.

I felt anger rise up in me at that... my Voice was a part of me. It was a power that was worked into my very Soul, and the Dragon Souls that I had devoured over the years to empower it. I opened my mouth in a wordless cry of rage, and charged forward. Nerevra followed alongside me, and Serana let loose the first two Ice Spears, aiming for the Watcher and Nordy-Nord.

Neither Spear hit. The Watcher waved a hand, and both Spears were deflected off in an entirely different direction. That... shouldn't have been possible. No Ward can be used immediately, all known Ward Spells take time to charge up... which meant that The Watcher knew spells that weren't known to the College.

Nerevra got to Nordy-Nord before I could engage my foe. Probably because of those absurdly long legs Nords have. Nordy-Nord responded by bringing his battleaxe around in an almost lazy swing, which Nerevra caught on her shield. The Shield of Auriel glowed slightly as it absorbed the majority of the blow's force, but the amount that got through was still enough to knock her off balance.

The Tongue, the practitioner of The Voice, drew an Akaviri Longsword and went to stab at Nerevra. I didn't allow it, parrying the blade upward with my Greatsword, and then turning its momentum towards the Tongue's head. I would have cleaved his skull in two... if he hadn't responded by Shouting, " **FEIM** ," and immediately becoming incorporial. My blade passed through the specter-like skull without doing any damage, and the blade pulled me off balance as the strike carried through without being slowed by a skull.

The Watcher brought his blade up, and slammed its blunt edge down on my shoulder. That knocked me to the ground... just in time to catch Nerevra catch another blow from that battleaxe on her shield. She was luring Nordy-Nord off from me... and Serana.

She had just reached us, and brought her sword forward at the Watcher's unarmored skull. He reacted to the blade instantly, ducking under her strike from behind him and spinning on the spot... using the blunt edge of his longsword to whack Serana in the back of her knees. Her feet practically flew out from under her, and she hit the ground with a loud thud.

"Sluta gömma sig bakom din sköld!" Nordy-Nord shouted from outside my vision.

Then I turned to the Tongue. He didn't have his sword pointed at me, but I could feel a more deadly weapon in the form of his Voice. I could sense the Thu'um building up within him, about to be unleashed in whatever form he chose... but he didn't get to speak.

While the Watcher and Tongue were busy with me and Serana, Nerevra had blocked another strike from Nordy-Nord. She had then taken advantage of the most dangerous part of the Enchantment upon Auriel's Shield. She unleashed the force it had captured while blocking Nordy-Nord's strikes by bashing him squarely in the chest... and sent him flying as if he'd been hit by Unrelenting Force. Flying stright into the Tongue, knocking him to the ground.

I rolled and scrambled onto my feet, letting off a Fast Healing spell as I recovered. I felt a bolt of heat hit my back, probably a Firebolt Spell, but it didn't prevent me from regaining my feet. Especially since my Amulet was enchanted to resist fire and ice magic.

I turned upon the Watcher, and saw him with his blade at Serana's throat. He looked me in the eyes and said, "Drop your weapon."

I ran the odds in my head. I couldn't Shout to bull-rush him with Whirlwind Sprint, or Slow Time , or Disarm him. The Tongue would just deny me my Voice again. Nerevra was too far away to sneak up on him. I... only had one real choice.

I dropped my weapon... throwing it so that it would be louder as it clattered against the enamel floor. Trusting that Nerevra would understand why I had done that.

"Good," he said, "now... walk into the Portal."

I took my steps as heavily as I could. Nerevra was a quiet woman, even in heavy armor. As long as I provided sound cover, she'd be able to slip up on the enemy as long as he had his eyes on me.

"Don't bother with the noise." The Watcher said, "I can see her creeping up on me. Just walk into the portal, nice and calmly. You'll understand why once you're there."

The Watcher turned his head away from me, and towards Nerevra, and said, "You enter the Portal as well. You'll be needed to set things right as well."

Nerevra looked like she was going to rush him... but she didn't. Instead she sheathed Dawnbreaker and said, "I cannot leave while she is endangered."

The Watcher smiled, and then he said, "Of course. The Champion of Meridia can't leave a _Vampire_ to die, now can she? What would your lady _possibly_ think about that?"

He scoffed, and then he grabbed the back of Serana's clothing, and slung her into the Portal.

"Just so you know," he said, "It's a one-way trip. I'd gather your weapons."

Then he made a gesture with his left hand that I couldn't quite catch, and all three of them vanished with flares of purple light.

"Well," I said, looking at Nerevra, "We'd best go help Serana... wherever she is."

Nerevra nodded, and then took a running jump into the Portal without a further word.

I followed her, grabbing my weapon before setting out... and was halfway through the Portal before I heard the word.

" **NO**."

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

There are potential Spoilers for the Elder Scrolls Deep Lore within the Author's Notes, as well as the Dragon Age Lore. I'm also going to be doing a lot of telling, instead of showing, here.

I'm going to cover some things that I can already hear the comments on.

 **First up: Nerevra.**

She's an OC. She isn't Dragonborn, but she _is_ considered to be the actual Hero of the Dawnguard DLC. I split her from the Dragonborn so that I could justify having both of my favorite PCs in one story. Those of you who've played Morrowind already know who her father is. He's probably not going to show up in person.

For those of you who want to know: She was the leader throughout the Dawnguard Campaign. She doesn't have any Supernatural edges that she relies upon when she's fighting, outside of the Enchantments upon her weapons (which are all but impossible to shut down). That's why she does better when the rug's pulled out from under the other two. She knows how to hold her own in a close-quarters fight, and could probably a shoot a Dragon out of the sky with her bow.

 **Second up: The Three Weirdoes.**

A lot of you are probably wondering how three random guys managed to beat Team Dragonborn like that. I've got two major reasons. The first is that the one who can Shout is able to use a Shout that I call **Silencing Echo**. It shuts down other Voice-Users. The Dragonborn is _really_ dependant on his ability to Shout when he fights. Taking them away reduced him a lot. The Watcher being able to neutralize Serana's Destruction Magic turned her into dead weight. Nerevra was the only one who they couldn't shut down, which is why she managed to nearly draw the Nordy-Nord's blood.

Team Dragonborn got _really lucky_ fighting those three, though. They weren't even remotely going for kills, which you probably caught with how they were usually attacking with the blunt side of their weapons. The Nordy-Nord looked like he was going for a kill, but he knew what Auriel's Shield could do. He's fought against someone who wielded it before, and would have pulled his strikes if Nerevra hadn't gotten her shield up. If they had actually been trying to kill them, the battle would have been over before the Light had thinned out.

If the Dragonborn had gone in and tried to save Serana, instead of standing down, the Watcher would have just thrown her into the Portal before engaging him.

Those of you who've started diving into the Elder Scrolls Lore will probably recognize those three. They're pretty important, and they're clued into the Deep Lore. The languages they use will tell you a lot about who they are, as will their displayed abilities. By the way, Nordy-Nord is speaking Atmoran. I use bastard Swedish to represent it, since we don't have any canon sources.

 **Third up: The Mirror and Murals**

The Mirror is an Eluvian, which has recently been hijacked by some powerful beings and aimed at specific locations, instead of linking to the weird Ehlven Crossroads. The Murals in the wall are based off of Solas's Murals in Skyhold, in Dragon Age: Inquisition. They depict the Elven Gods. The woman with the Dragon coiled around her is Mythal. Leon (the Dragonborn) is wrong about her being another version of Akatosh.

So why is there an Ehlven Outpost in Tamriel?

The answer to that would spoil things.

 **Fourth up: Serana and Nerevra**

The Watcher was calling attention to the fact that the Champion of Meridia was _protecting_ a Vampire with his comment before throwing Serana through the Eluvian.

Meridia normally has a problem with Vampires, since they're undead, but she has an exception for Serana. The reason for this would be a spoiler for later plot developments, but there _is_ a reason. I've even hinted at it during this episode.

 **Fifth up: NO!**

I have to tell those of you who've read Michael Kirkbride's C0DA something: That wasn't Numidium talking. Landfall hasn't happened in this timeline, and I still haven't decided if this is one of the Timelines where Landfall happens.

The thing that was talking was _much worse_ than the Numidium, in the grand scheme of things. I couldn't affect anyone until they went through the Eluvian, though.


	2. A Castle Under Siege

_**Morgan Cousland**_

My dog woke me up just in time for one of the worst nights of my life, and the day I regret the most.

He was standing at my bedchamber door, barking loudly at something on the other side. At first I thought someone might be carrying food by and he was asking for some, as he's been known to do that. I considered closing my eyes and going back to sleep for a few moments. That ended when the dog's tone registered in my sleep-addled mind. They weren't Aedan's "I know you have food and that you're not sharing" barks. They were his "Something needs killing" barks.

My eyes opened wide at that, and I all but leapt out of bed. If any of the dogs from the Kennels had that reaction, I would have ignored them. But Aedan wasn't most dogs, he was a Mabari Warhound. Smart enough to speak, and wise enough to know when not to. If he thought that there was danger, there was danger. It could just be giant rats in the larder _again…_ but still better to be safe than sorry when all but a tenth of your guards are gone to war.

"Morgan?" A voice said from my bed.

 _Shit,_ I thought, and turned to see Iona still laying there.

"Iona," I said, stumbling over to my discarded clothing, "something's wrong. Get dressed."

"Wha-" she began to say.

"There may not be time to talk," I said, picking up my pants, "stay here. Aedan will protect you if anyone tries anything. I need to see what's going on."

I was, after all, in charge of the defense of the castle. Fergus, and nine-tenths of Father's garrison, had marched off south at the King's command to fight the Darkspawn that were emerging. Father was still here… but he'd handed command off to me anyway. Probably so that he could see how I handled any situations that came up before he left.

 _By 'getting to know' the lady in waiting of one of your mother's oldest friends._

I banished that thought. It wasn't the first time I'd… gotten to know someone, as far as I knew Father either wasn't aware or didn't consider it a transgression worthy of reprimand. I couldn't accept them as wrong, outside of his disapproval. The Chant probably had something to say about such affairs, but I'd never been much for the Chantry. I couldn't imagine the Maker frowning upon two people working out mutual attraction in such an… agreeable fashion.

With that in mind, I threw my clothing on as quickly as I could. Then I followed up that task with donning some armor. I didn't think I had time for anything complicated. Mail takes a long time to get into properly without help, and Iona's expertise in dressing someone else was limited to a lady's dresses and gowns. So I stuck to boiled and studded leather. It still took agonizingly long to get on, but I knew that it'd protect me at least a little.

Almost exactly three seconds after I finished putting my armor on, there was a knock on the door. A voice said, "Lord Cousland, we've a problem out here. We need your help."

I recognized the voice as being one of Arl Howe's men, a bodyguard who'd been there the night before. Howe was one of my father's vassals, and one of his oldest friends. I'd grown up on their stories about the Liberation of Ferelden, fighting against the Orlesians. I trusted Howe because of that…

Iona apparently recognized the voice and had a similar opinion of its master, or maybe she just recognized the voice of a servant carrying someone else's words. She answered the door, in spite of Aedan's protests. She saved my life by doing so… because the crossbow bolt came through the door the moment it was opened wide enough.

I felt my eyes widen, and the breath caught in my throat for a split-second. I tried to wake myself up for a few seconds, thinking that I must have been having a nightmare. I hoped, I prayed, that the scene before me was just some Spirit or Demon playing a cruel joke on my sleeping mind. But… I knew that it wasn't.

Iona was dead, and falling to the ground with a crossbow bolt in her heart.

I felt my skin go cold, and my body acted without my needing to think. I lunged to where my shield was leaning against the wall, and grabbed it by the handle. I didn't have time to strap it on, though. Then I pulled my sword loose from its sheath, leaving it and the belt it was currently attached to behind. Aedan was ready to leap forward, attacking anyone who tried to come in… and waiting for me to draw any more crossbow bolts before he darted out.

"That's not the Teyrn's son," Howe's bodyguard… Howe's assassin said.

I chose that moment to burst into view, my head ducked so that I could cover it and my chest with the shield. My gut was a bit exposed, but the armor would probably deflect a bolt that didn't catch me perfectly head-on.

"DAMN RIGHT IT WASN'T!" I shouted, lowering my shield enough to see my enemies.

There were two of them. The one with the crossbow was too far away for me to go for immediately, and was busy reloading. The other was the one who had knocked, and was currently standing within arm's reach. I took advantage of that, rushing him with all my weight behind the shield. He didn't even have a weapon drawn… and got knocked to the ground with ease.

Aedan charged out, and was on top of the fallen man in moments. I didn't stay to watch my dog handle the assassin. Instead, I advanced upon Howe's other man. He saw me coming, and dropped his crossbow. He reached for an arming sword at his waist, and I knew he'd have it out before I could get there. So, I stopped my charge and instead thought about the terrain.

The Courtyard outside of my family's personal quarters was very open. There were archways that supported an extension of the roofing, to provide shade in hot months, but there wasn't anything that'd give me a massive advantage. So I chose my ground based on where reinforcements would come from, backing up towards Father's quarters so that I could keep an eye on the path into the courtyard.

The Crossbowman watched me… and I could practically hear the wheels turning. He knew that I'd rush him if he picked up the crossbow again, and that I'd be able to knock him to the ground when I did. He also knew that my dog would soon be done with his friend, and then he'd be finished. The Mabari would circle around, and he'd be flanked. On one side he'd find my sword, and on the other he'd find teeth that would drag him to the ground where he'd be easy to finish off.

So, he did the only thing that offered half a chance. He charged, reckless and with his sword in both hands. He probably planned to kill me quickly, and then turn on the dog. If I had the time, I would have smiled. I set my footing, and let the enemy come to me. He brought his blade down, probably hoping to knock me off balance with the strike. I brought my shield up, angled off to the side as to deflect the blade rather than stopping it, and then shoved his sword-arm out of the way with the shield.

My arm was already back, and the thrust was almost instinctive. I pressed the blade forward with all my strength, and felt it slide between his ribs. His eyes widened, and his sword dropped to the ground with a clattering noise. Then his eyes glazed over, and I shoved him off my weapon with my shield. He fell to the ground, dead.

I ran over to my quarters, and slid on my knees. I knew that there wasn't much hope but… I had to make sure. I put a finger to Iona's neck… and felt nothing. I placed a hand before her mouth… and felt nothing.

She was gone.

I closed my eyes, and bowed my head slightly. I'm not going to say I loved her… but I did like her as a person. There was a lot to respect in her. She was loyal, and she loved her daughter… her daughter who was waiting for a mother who would never come home. I made note of that. I'd have to look into the girl. After all… her mother's death was my fault. She was there because of me… because I had asked her to be.

I let out a slow breath, and opened my eyes. I reached forward and closed Iona's, and then said, "May you find peace at the Maker's side." I didn't have time enough to do any more for her.

I stood up, and then walked into my room and retrieved my belt. I slid my sword into its sheath, and belted it on over the armor. Then I retrieved my bow, which was unstrung, and my arrows. I didn't want to leave them behind.

Then I walked out of my room… and saw my mother standing in boiled-leather armor.

"I heard the fighting," she said, "what happened?"

"Howe's men," I said, "they tried to kill me… but…"

Mother looked towards my door, towards Iona's body, and I knew she understood what had happened. She didn't say anything… but I saw some sadness there.

There wasn't time to address that, though, because five more of Howe's men came out of the entrance to the Coutyard. Two had crossbows, and I moved to shield Mother with my body… and my shield. But, before they could fire, something happened. There was a flash of blinding green-white light…

* * *

 _ **Leon Grace**_

I emerged from the strange mirror-portal in a place I didn't recognize… with five armed men in front of me. They all stumbled back, and one shouted a single word: "Demon!" I couldn't really blame them for making that mistake, my armor's Daedric after-all. The glowing joints and spikes get that reaction from a lot of people.

The two with crossbows aimed at me, and let them fire. The bolts hit my armor's breastplate. I felt them through the Daedroth-Infused Ebony, like two punches in rapid succession. Unhealed, they'd probably make some nasty bruises. But they'd be light bruises... so I decided to be charitable.

"Drop your weapons," I said, "and I won't harm you."

The world shook slightly as I spoke. I must have let my Voice seep into my Speech again. That wasn't uncommon with me, when I'm angry. But, it frightened the men more… leading the one that appeared to be in command to shout, "Kill it before it kills us!"

The three in the front charged while the other two reloaded. The three were sword-and-board fighters, probably intended to form a shield-wall to protect the crossbowmen. If they had stuck to that plan, the fight might have even been fair. Unfortunately, they were panicking and weren't thinking straight.

The first to reach me lunged forward, and I stepped back out of his reach. I brought my greatsword up and back as I moved, and then sprung forward at him as he lost his momentum. The Dragonbone Greatsword punched through his armor, which looked to be iron or steel chainmail, and crushed its way through his ribs. I caught a lung at the least, and probably the heart while I was at it.

The other two moved to flank me. There was one on either side, so that they could punish me for focusing on either of them. Even with my armor, a blow to the back of my knees could take me down to the ground. There's a good reason that the euphemism for dying in combat is: "he fell." It's hard to fight when you're on your back… or your front for that matter.

Unfortunately for them, it wasn't my first fight outnumbered.

I sprung backwards, the Armor's enchantments lending me strength, and brought my sword back for a slice. I knew they'd probably block me, but I'd probably also knock the one that did that off balance in the process. While he recovered, I could attack his friend without worrying about being attacked from behind.

Of course, none of that mattered because the enemy on my right suddenly sprouted an arrow from his head. I adjusted my swing mid-flight in response, missing the intended target… and crashing into the shield of the second man. The shield nearly fell to splinters from the force of the blow… and the man nearly fell to the ground.

I followed up with a quick slice, cutting his throat with the very tip of the blade as he stumbled backwards. The spurt of blood told me that he would be dead soon. Still, I let the momentum of the strike follow through, and then stepped forward and **slammed** the Greatsword's pommel down onto the man's head. There was a crunch, and I was sure he was dead.

That left two more… who were drawing their swords in the response to two new combatants entering the field. One was a man who looked like an Imperial with pale skin and black hair, who was wearing what looked like studded leather and was carrying a shield and a sword. The other was a dog the size of a small bear.

The Dog leapt at the crossbowman on the left, and took him down to the ground. The dog locked its jaws on the man's neck, and finished him off. Meanwhile, the human slammed his shield into his opponent's weapon, knocking it free of his hand, and then ran his sword through the man's neck, and ripped it out the side.

The man kicked his fallen foe once he hit the ground, and then turned to face me. He didn't sheathe his weapon, and I didn't blame him.

"What are you?" the man asked.

I brought my greatsword up to its scabbard, and slid it in. Then I reached my hands up to my helmet, and willed it to release. The Daedric Ebony loosened its grip upon my head and came free. I breathed deeply of the cold night's air, and looked the man in the face. Then I said, "A Man."

The other man blinked.

His dog walked up to me, and sniffed. I resisted an urge to push the dog away. A beast of that size was dangerous… especially now that my helmet wasn't covering my skull. But it didn't want to fight, it just sniffed me and then gave off a happy bark.

"Aedan says you're a friend," the man said, "or at least not an enemy. Where did you come from?"

I looked around the courtyard I was standing in. There was a woman behind me, about fifty years old based on her hair and wrinkles. I decided that she was probably a Nord, based on how strong she still looked to be, in spite of her barely being taller than me.

"I'm from Skyrim," I said, "I was exploring an ruined temple, and found a portal. A friend fell through, and I chased after her."

The man seemed confused by that. Then he said, "I've never heard of Skyrim… and I think I'd remember someone else arriving in such an… noticeable way."

"Okay…" I said, and then I noticed sounds on the edge of hearing. Metal on metal. More fighting.

The man heard it too, and said, "We'll have to continue this later. This castle is under attack… and we can't hold it. The enemy's inside the gates."

"We have to find your father," the woman behind me said, "he was sitting up with Arl Howe."

"He'll be in the Larder if he's still alive," the man said to her before turning to me, "You obviously know how to fight, and I'm in no position to turn down help. Can you help us?"

I already knew my answer. I'd help him. He needed help, and helping people is what I do. But… I needed help from him as well.

"I'll help you," I said, "if you give me your word that you'll help me after we're done here."

"You have it," the man said.

"Good," I said, bringing my helmet back to my head, "my name's Leon Grace, by the way."

"Morgan Cousland," the man said, "This is my mother, Elanor, and the furry one's Aedan."

Aedan barked his agreement… and we set out.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

Welcome to Chapter One. As with last time, I'm going to cover some questions that will probably show up in reviews. Be warned, there will be Spoilers for some early chapters. I don't care to dance around a few of these things, since they really won't be a surprise anyway.

 _Aedan's "Getting to Know People"_

Yes, Aedan sleeps with a lot of people… by his standards. That's a total of five people, including Iona, in about as many years. None of them moved _quite_ as quickly as the thing with Iona, but he and Iona really hit it off. He doesn't consider himself to have loved any of them, but he does consider them to be friends… who happen to have mutual physical attraction.

He does feel guilt over it, no matter what he says in his internal monologue. This is in there just to help establish his relationship with the Chantry. He believes in the Maker, but not the Chantry's version of him. But, he was still raised under the Chant and as a result he still has a guilt-response when he breaks with traditions.

Rationally, he doesn't see anything wrong with his various affairs. Nobody was hurt by them, and everyone was involved willingly. He went to great length to make sure that every partner he's had knew that he wasn't just pulling Lord's Privilege like some Orlesian Chevalier. He actually _hates_ the Chevaliers because of that whole Lord's Privilege thing. But… he still has a conditioned guilt response over those affairs.

That's why he tends to fall back on the euphemism.

For the record: his father was vaguely aware of the third relationship having gone physical. He didn't see any reason to break it up, since Morgan was being discrete and his marriage prospects were… a bit lacking at the time.

 _Iona's Daughter_

Yes, she's going to show up later. Morgan feels guilty over Iona dying, and will eventually atone by making sure that her little girl is taken care of.

Iona and Morgan's off-screen conversation had her daughter show up a lot. Morgan doesn't have a paternal bone in his body, but he does have a respect for love. If he had been born in Mundus instead of Thedas, he probably would have turned into a member of Dibellia or Mara's clergy… probably Dibellia. He knows that Iona's daughter was important to her, so he feels like helping the child will balance out getting her mother killed.

 _Morgan and Aedan Fighting_

Firstly: The Dog has the Male Cousland's default name. This is intentional.

Secondly: Morgan has a lot of combat experience at this point. He was being groomed as both the spare to Fergus, and as a Marshall. He would have been leading armies in the future either way, so his father sent him out in command of guard patrols from time to time. He and his men dealt with bandits and highwaymen, and he knows how to fight pretty well. Nerevra's better, but they have similar fighting-styles.

 _Why is the Dragonborn here?_

The Eluvian wasn't hooked up to the Network. The Three Weirdoes redirected it, intending to drop the Dragonborn and Co. in a specific location… but something went wrong and they got dumped mid-transport. The Dragonborn landed at Castle Cousland, Nerevra landed in the Harrowing Chamber at the Circle Tower, and Serana's the only one who arrived at the intended destination.

As that implies, other Warden Origins are going to be involved. Duncan is at the Circle Tower, though.

 _No Shouting?_

Leon was fighting the Tongue, Nordy-Nord, and The Watcher a few seconds ago. He stopped considering how Shouts could be used in battle after the Tongue shut him down, and hasn't turned that part of his mind back on yet. Also, Howe's men weren't exactly formidable foes. Leon doesn't follow the Way of the Voice, but he still feels that he shouldn't use it in _every_ fight. He pulls the Voice out when he feels that the battle is worthy of that weapon… or when he's really sick of the rain.

Also: If he had Shouted then Morgan would have assumed he was an Abomination and we'd be down a warden and his mother, because Leon would have brought his Voice to bear in the resulting fight. Without his Voice or his Armor and its Enchantments, Leon's actually pretty fairly matched with Morgan _and_ Aedan together. But that's mostly because Leon's reliant on his armor's enchantments, and Morgan's reliant on his dog to help.

 _Skyrim?_

Thedas is a different world. Skyrim doesn't exist here… but Morgan isn't sure. He's aware that the Qunari come from another continent, so a human coming from another one isn't a big shock.

Morgan's also ignorant on a lot of how Magic works, so he doesn't know that it's impossible to teleport. At least, it was impossible to teleport in Thedas before the Breach was opened and the rules of magic were changed. Add in the little he knows of the Ancient Elves, and he's currently guessing that Leon probably fell afoul of an old Ehlven trap.


End file.
